


The Moth & The Flame

by AngelicEclair



Category: Far Cry 3
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Gunplay, Michael Mando Characters, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Restraints, Slight Petplay, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:54:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24904924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelicEclair/pseuds/AngelicEclair
Summary: The Reader has been Vaas' prisoner for a month. Though she knows she should hate him, his moments of kindness and the incredible pleasure he gives her shakes her stance.(Can be read as a companion piece to "Beach-Bound" or a one-off.)
Relationships: Vaas Montenegro/Original Character(s), Vaas Montenegro/Reader
Comments: 13
Kudos: 55





	The Moth & The Flame

**Author's Note:**

> Please do not read or comment if you are offended dubcon/noncon elements or writing smut about bad guys! Thank you so much!

The night was awash with the horrid mating screech of cicadas. The warm breeze made the mosquito canopy sway sensually, like sheets of gauze, while (Y/N) stood as still as a statue, restrained and helpless, suspended on her tiptoes. The pirate goons had just strung the canopy up a few days ago, wrapping the netting around the shambled hut and slightly obscuring (Y/N) sight of the green jungle.

Maybe Vaas did have a heart, or maybe he just didn't want his toy being chewed up by bugs. No matter, she appreciated the gesture and was thankful to not have to worry about the unidentifiable tropical insects scuttling up her bare legs every night.

The dead air was sweet with tired flowers and (Y/N)'s half-eaten mango, which laid on a paper plate at her feet. It was beginning to rot. She hung her head and listened to the hum from the sea, her body shimmering with painful heat. Despite being in a hut, her skin was still burning. She distracted herself from the discomfort by imagining just how many ancient relics were buried directly beneath her. But the thought of ancient relics quickly turned to the thought of bones. She began to imagine just how many brittle skeletons were hidden under the sand.

(Y/N)'s hands were throbbing and nearly purple and bloodless from the miserably-tight binds, keeping her arms above her head. Tingles tumbled down her arms as they began to go numb from being forced in the same position for so long.

Jewel-bright beetles buzzed past her, taunting her with their ability to fly. The whole earth seemed almost as restless as she. 

Moths flittered past to the lanterns and torches, flirting with the fire.

Off to her side, pale hens were stuffed tightly into wire-mesh cages, while their polygamous male counterpart strutted around rapping at the ground and crowing, sending the signal to other roosters that if they trespass, they will pluck them bare. As the cockerel swaggered back and forth in front of the roosting flock, they knew they belonged to him.

Vaas ruled the roost in the same way. 

Beneath (Y/N)'s heavy lids churned passionate violence. She couldn't decide whether she wanted to beat Vaas' brains out or fuck them out.

_Clomp, clomp, clomp, scuff._

Each step was heavy and deliberate. 

(Y/N) jumped hard when two big hands smoothed her hair down and cupped her face in his hands. "You getting tired, honey?"

Opening her eyes, she was confronted with a pair of black combat boots caked in wet sand. She slowly raised her head to meet Vaas' smug visage.

'Honey' was his go-to pet name when he was feeling especially patronizing. The sound made her want to spit hot bile at him, but she was too tired. She had perfected the art of growing inward over her month on the island. She wouldn't let him pierce her seamless universe of self behind her eyes. But his words were like the detonation of some slow-fused projectile buried deep in her gut. They could be ignored at first, but they would always rise back to the surface like a dead body, and she would hear each syllable echo over and over, draining her hope preserves. She hated how it made her shake with excitement, the only emotion that had survived her bondage. She looked forward to seeing him, like the sick excitement you get when awaiting a severe thunderstorm to roll in, a secret, unhealthy eagerness to see its destruction.

He was insane, with short intervals of horrible sanity, bringing her food, giving her a sponge bath when she was too untrustworthy to clean herself. None of his men were allowed to touch her. He would drop all he was doing to tend to her. She was always taken aback at how fast he'd switch from hollering at her to cooing, luring her over. She couldn't ignore the tinge of sheer excitement she felt every time he sauntered over, the warmth that got tangled in her gut and pushed out impatient wetness that made her clasp her thighs together. 

His warm, dry lips mashed against hers, and she balled her purplish hands into weak fists. To her tired body, Vaas' touch was a regenerative experience. He prodded her lips with his tongue. She hesitantly gave him access, sighing into his hot mouth. Finally, finally, finally. Something to take her mind off of her throbbing body. His tongue was victorious, as it always was, tasting her deeply.

He pulled away, looking satisfied, eyes droopy and drunk.

"Just a bitch in heat." He rasped. "Why don't you bark for my boys over there, hm? C'mon, c'mon, like this!" 

Vaas threw his head back and howled up at the empty night sky. A few mangy dogs howled back much to Vaas' amusement. Then (Y/N) could hear the jeering of the pirates coming from all around her. She was surrounded by the taunting pack like always, even when she couldn't see them.

" **Bark!** " Vaas commanded, yanking her hair back and sending white-hot pain swarming her windpipe.

"A-arf...arf..." She managed, finding it difficult to swallow or even breathe with her neck at such an angle.

Vaas stuck his tongue out at her, panting like a dog before exploding into a fit of laughter. His unhinged overexcitement vanished, and his tone dropped significantly as if teasing her was a serious business. 

"We're just animals, hermana. That's all we are." 

A haunting smile split his face, and he squatted in front of her, bandaged fingers sliding up her bruised leg.

"I'm a carnivore, and I'm fucking starving." 

He looked like a lunatic. (Y/N) was so preoccupied with his cat-like green eyes, she almost didn't notice her panties being dragged down her thighs, dropping on their own when they reached her knees.

His mohawk jutted up like a fin between (Y/N)'s thighs as he leaned in, making a show out of inhaling her womanly scent. Bright latticework exploded behind her squeezed-shut eyes as Vaas' hot tongue circled her clit. She was quick to follow his lead, grinding her sopping slit against the entirety of his mouth, using him as an instrument with which to orchestrate the crescendo of her desire. Despite the shred of control, her hands were still very much tied above her head. 

He laved over the cleft of her pussy, his tongue flat across her open labia.

"V-Vaas!"

"You already wanna cum?"

(Y/N) nodded rapidly, turning her head to the side, feeling the need to cover her mouth as she whined pathetically. She felt dreadfully exposed.

"No, no, no. You don't get to cum now. You're gonna cum on my cock, okay?"

(Y/N) felt disgusting for the relief knowing she'd feel his cock in her again and sighed longingly before shyly peeping between her legs at Vaas. God, the sight of his saliva mixed with her juices on his chin, made her buck upwards, eager to be stretched full.

Not wasting any time, Vaas jumped to his feet. Everything he did was a performance.

He stepped behind her, hands racing to rid himself of his belt. His deft fingers ripped the button from its loop and tore down the fly. The stiff fabric of his cargo pants stirred as he fished himself free.

(Y/N) lurched when he slapped his cock against her ass cheek, feeling the morbid hunger boil inside.

The sound of his hefty cock sliding through her slick folds was mortifying. With a hand clutching her supple ass, Vaas guided himself to (Y/N)'s entrance and pressed in, met with some resistance. 

"Fuck, fuck, _fuck_. Estás tan apretada. Te quiero muchísímo." Vaas groaned as he sheathed himself with an audibly-wet 'pop.' The sudden stretch made her clench in rapid succession.

"Please...move." She begged. The ache was becoming unbearable with him stalled deep inside her, just throbbing every few seconds.

His hand cracked over her ass, and his hips rocked forward. "Shut _the fuck_ up."

He pumped into her at a rapid pace and (Y/N) began moaning like a wanton whore. Each thrust was mind-warping.

"Look at you. You're drunk on this dick." The dramatic, mocking flourish of his arm made (Y/N) cringe, and her ears sear.

"I'm going to fuck you to hell." Just behind her ear, his eyes were of unstable crystal, vibrating at a volatile frequency. She had looked into those green eyes a million times and knew, with an instinctive mammalian certainty, she was never leaving the island; not until he was through with her. Her stomach dropped into a polar pit. He was never done with anything. He did things over and over again, expecting a change.

He was the living definition of insanity.

His cock dove deep into her cove, crashing into her tide pool, his thumb pinching at her pearl.

For some sick reason, she wanted him to dive deeper inside of her until the pain became too overwhelming to bear. 

"Mmm, you love me, don't you? You love me?" His voice was surprisingly warm and soft. (Y/N) heart turned over like an engine. She appreciated how he was handling her so much, more than she could express. 

(Y/N) was hypersensitive and could feel everything. The dig of Vaas' waistband against her tender thighs, the one drop of slickness tickling her leg as it trailed down, and Vaas' breath coming in sharp puffs against the nape of her neck.

In one swift movement, Vaas unholstered his pistol and drove the barrel into (Y/N)'s temple, clearly unsatisfied with his question going unanswered. 

(Y/N)'s back arched and she ground herself against Vaas, his pubic curls meeting her plumpness.

"This is what gets you really excited, yeah?" His voice came in a viper-like hiss. "Yeah, _no, no, no, no_ , I know what you fucking like."

Humiliation heated her cheeks at the sloppy, wet noises my soft opening made at his ministrations. He did know. He knew all too well.

"Say you fucking love me. Say, 'I love you, Vaas.'" He sang out.

His thrusts became sloppy and wild. 

Vaas had used the art of euphemisms, lies, and fear-mongering to make (Y/N) crave her own enslavement. And crave it, she did.

Even with a gun to her head, she was inexplicably and disturbingly complicit, desire swelling in her chest.

"I love you, Vaas."

Tears crept up and out of her eyes, burning like hot wax all the way down. She couldn't remember who she was without Vaas—could she even take care of herself anymore without his guidance? He had begun to have to remind her to eat and drink. He could have killed her a thousand times over by now, but he kept her safe, more or less. She had become addicted to the thrill like some brain-flaying drug. She got high at the unknown, and Vaas was always predictably unpredictable. She was the moth, and he was the flame. She was Icarus, and Vaas' fire was melting her wings of feathers and wax. Her wings were blackening, but her glassy, pleasure-dead eyes showed she didn't care, she just wanted to rise higher and higher until the danger she once tried to flee from swallowed her whole.

Despite the tragedy of her situation, he gave her specks of hope, a dreg of thankfulness, and hours of pleasure. For split seconds, she never wanted to leave the island. How could she live without the tide-like push-pull of high-strung emotion?

What is the point in living if there was no fear, sorrow, or anger? Grief also lends its own peculiar appeal. Sometimes being caged freed the mind.

Vaas canted forward, especially hard. (Y/N) splintered as she came, teeming with raw ecstasy under the moon, dangling above like an earring. Burning to ashes, her very veins scintillating, she never felt more alive. 


End file.
